Blogathon 08: Who is Superman? Part Six

[Concluding my look at different interpretations of Superman from the past decade...]

My favourite Superman is Joe Casey's Superman. His Superman speaks back to the idea of virtue I mentioned in my second Blogathon post. He could use his massive strength to hit things, to fight violence with violence, and he doesn't. He doesn't take the easy way out and simply punch things back. He uses his brain, he finds non-violent solutions, and he saves the world without throwing a single punch. My favourite Superman is a pacifist Superman.

In Adventures of Superman #616, Superman says the most revolutionary words ever put into his mouth: "No violence. I won't resort to that. I'm a pacifist, Dr. Welbourne." For me, that's when Superman changed and everyone else's version was somehow lacking. This was a smart, forward-thinking concept, a place to take the character that felt completely in-line with everything that guys like Grant Morrison talk about, but putting it into direct action. Of course Superman would be a pacifist! If he's here to set an example of how to be better, of how to rise above our petty basic urges, and move into the future as enlightened, advanced beings, why would he always hit stuff? We've known violence is primative for a long time.

Seagle offers a similar view in a section on 'power' that shows that Superman is just another in a long line of 'might makes right.' He enforces his concept of 'justice' and 'morality' through violence and his superior strength. It doesn't matter if he's fighting on our side, his methods reveal him as a primative creature. If anything, Azzarello's version of the character is a logical extension of that argument. And, for all of Morrison's arguments and depictions of Superman as a loving protector, All-Star Superman still ends with him beating Lex Luthor by punching him out.

I've long wondered why no one else has followed Casey's example. For an entire year (and a little bit before that even), he had Superman not throw a single punch. He managed to defeat any enemies that came his way and save the world/Metropolis/whatever. Hell, as Casey pointed out, he thought it was his explicit statement of Superman's pacifism that went too far; meaning, if he didn't say it, would anyone have noticed? If it's possible to have Superman be a pacifist without any serious disruptions, why doesn't everyone write him that way? Why not have the character live up to his potential and example?

The idea that Superman says he's a pacifist is going too far is key here. You can only change the character so much. Funnily enough, Casey's final year on Adventures of Superman reminded us how much the character has changed when he comes face to face with what is essentially the original Golden Age Superman. A strongman in tights that fights against corrupt authority, a reminder that the modern boom of heroes that do that is really another example of "Superman did it!" Superman has changed over the years and will change again. But, what makes pacifism too much of a change? Where is the line of how much you can alter the character? People said Azzarello went too far, or that Frank Miller simply mocks the character and that's not really Superman. I've heard some reactions to Casey's pacifist Superman that were the same. But, if it falls within the broad criteria that make up the character, how is it not Superman? If it's not Superman, who is it?

To me, Casey's pacifist Superman is more Superman than any version of the character since his original inception. It's a character more in sync with my interests and worldview. He still fights for truth and justice, he still wears the costume, he still has amazing powers -- all he does is use them differently. Add in some of his fighting corruption past and you've got the making of a superhero I'd read about every month.

But, that's not how others perceive the character. They want him to have big fights with larger than life adversaries. They want Lex Luthor to be a mad scientist instead of a businessman. They want Lois and Clark unmarried. They want, they want, they want...

Who is Superman? I'll leave that to Tim Callahan: "Superman is the essence of man, all the power anyone could wish, but still burdened by the responsibility to help others and the need to find someone to connect with. He IS easy to relate to, because he is a stylized version of all of us."

Superman is whoever you want him to be.

In 30 minutes, I'll begin my issue-by-issue look at Iron Man: The Inevitable by Joe Casey and Frazer Irving.

[Don't forget to donate what you can to the Hero Initiative! (Details in this post.) After you do, let me know via comment or e-mail (found at the righthand side) so I can keep track of donations -- and who to thank.]

Blogathon 07: Who is Superman? Part Five

[Continuing my look at different interpretations of Superman over the past decade...]

I've never entirely understood the role of Lois Lane. Why her? For the ease of stories, she fills a specific role, because it's simpler to have Superman/Clark fixate on one person. Spider-Man has largely operated the same way, shifting from Gwen Stacey to Mary Jane Watson with a few minor possibilities in there. Superman has Lana Lang and Wonder Woman (along with some others) to fill those minor roles. But, ignoring the practicalities of one love interest, what is it about Lois specifically?

The idea that she's a human that's reached the potential Superman is an example of seems right somehow. She's not perfect and can be a little rude; still, there's a sense that she's rounded enough in all areas that she stands as the pinnacle of human achievement. Okay, that doesn't sound right. She hasn't reached the apex of human potential. She's not a mirror of Superman. So, what is she?

In All-Star Superman, she's the woman he loves. No explanation is needed. I can appreciate and understand that. Ask me why I love my girlfriend and I'll give you some basic reasons, some descriptions of her personality and behaviour, and none of it will cover it. Why does Superman/Clark love Lois? Because he does. It's that simple. At least in the mythic sense. In myths, no explanations are needed. Things simply are.

The role of Lois in Superman's world is something that Steven T. Seagle doesn't address in It's a Bird.... He explores different elements of Superman and what they mean, like the costume, like power, like justice... but not love or Lois. It's an odd omission when you think about it. But, it does implicitly argue for her expendability. Is Lois as essential as I made her out to be? She doesn't factor into Seagle's extensive exploration of the character. Hell, the past two years or so of Superman comics have had the two characters separated. First, Superman was on New Krypton and, then, he took his walk across America. In the upcoming relaunch, Lois is dating someone else and they were never married. She's still a love interest, an object of desire, but not much else. Is that all she is, even when she's been a central character? Does she even exist on her own or a way that isn't there to reflect Superman?

In The Death of Superman, he presence makes Superman's sacrifice that much more. She is something he sacrifices himself for, representing the whole of humanity. In Joe Casey's final year on Adventures of Superman, their marriage is something he struggles with a little. In one issue, the two celebrate Valentine's Day by finally coming together and staying in bed (no sex shown, just sleep). The run ends with an issue that's purposefully vague about their future. In many ways, Casey seems to be arguining for the disolution of their marriage, that Superman needs to be alone and un attached, while also presenting the argument that, like every married couple, the two simply have some problems. Either way, the relationship is not a completely solid one, not one that's unbreakable.

The marriage of Lois and Clark has been a problem to solve since it happened. Superman is often written into stories that demand a freedom that doesn't work entirely with a wife. How would she react to her husband disappearing off planet for a week? How does one live with that uncertainty? In contrast to the marriage of Peter and Mary Jane, the marriage of Lois and Clark seems to trap Superman, grounding him further than most would want him. They prefer a Superman that soars above such trivial things, rebuffing Lois at every turn, and allowing Clark to pine over her.

I'm not entirely sure what Lois's place is in Superman's life.

In 30 minutes, I'll discuss how much can you change Superman.

[Don't forget to donate what you can to the Hero Initiative! (Details in this post.) After you do, let me know via comment or e-mail (found at the righthand side) so I can keep track of donations -- and who to thank.]

Blogathon 05: Who is Superman? Part Three

[Continuing my examination of different interpretations of Superman from the past ten years in an effort to maybe say something about the character...]

The Superman I grew up with was a human one. He was still an alien from Krypton, of course, but there was an emphasis on the human elements of the character. After all, he did grow up here with his powers kicking in as a teenager. That basically puts him on the same level as Marvel's mutants. The longer he's Superman, the less human he would be, yes. His powers grant him a different vantage point -- and, more importantly, so does how other people treat him. The more he's treated different, like a god, the more he would begin to see himself that way even if he didn't want to. Our self-image is shaped by how others perceive us and why would Superman be any different?

It's that outside perception of what Superman is and what he should be that locks him in so much. We look at his powers and his differences and make him different. We look at him and see the potential for a mythic figure, so he's that, too. We make him a character that's impossible to relate to and then complain that we can't relate to him!

In It's a Bird..., there's a short bit about Superman as a teen where he chooses to walk all of the way into town to see a movie, knowing that he will miss part of it, rather than fly. He knows that flying would mean exposing himself and would change how others perceive him. He would no longer be the Kent boy, someone they've known for his entire life; he would be a freak, an alien, an other. It's something so obvious, so built into what he is and who we are. Of course we don't relate to Superman -- he's the other, he's the alien! He's the benevolent outsider who protects us, but he's still an outsider. He will never be 'one of us,' not entirely.

Grant Morrison embraced that idea to a degree in All-Star Superman, treating Superman as someone that is outside of humanity and that being a good thing. In that story, Superman doesn't try to belong or fit in, near the end of his career and comfortable in his role as protector. I do like Morrison's version of the character. In concept at least. There is something very exciting and lovely about a god-like figure that loves us and wants us to love one another and is here to help us see that. SuperJesus. He's positioned above us while still enough on our level to love us. It doesn't entirely work for me always, though. It's an argument that requires us to resolve the paradox of him being better than us and no better than us. He's superior and, yet, not. It's a sort of false modesty that I find grating and patronising, honestly. It almost puts Superman in a position of owner to us, his lovable pets without wanting to recognise that.

We don't see Clark much, only a few times, and he's a bumbling, slightly overweight man that people sort of humour and look down on. A bit of a goof. Lots of people have discussed the depiction of Clark and what that says about humanity, about how Superman supposedly views us. In a sense, Clark seems to me to be a test. An example of humanity at a possibly lower point and a way for Superman to see how people treat that sort of person. Clark keeps him humble in a way. Lex Luthor hates Superman because Superman is better than him; he scorns Clark because he's obviously inferior. The Clark we see in All-Star Superman, based upon the Silver Age depiction of the character rather than other modern interpretations, is the balancing act that makes Superman's position of above-and-yet-not work. Superman is above us, Clark Kent is below us (at least from our perspective), so it works out to a balance.

In 30 minutes, more of this.

And we're up to $185 for the Hero Initiative!

[Don't forget to donate what you can to the Hero Initiative! (Details in this post.) After you do, let me know via comment or e-mail (found at the righthand side) so I can keep track of donations -- and who to thank.]

Blogathon 04: Who is Superman? Part Two

[Continuing my look at different interpretations of Superman from the past ten years...]

What exactly is it about Superman that keeps people like me away? The only times I bother with the character are when a writer I already likes writes something featuring the character. I've mentioned that I can't relate to the character and that I find his lack of a struggle with heroism a turn-off. But, there are others who relate to the character incredibly. Mark Waid has often spoke of his deeply personal relationship to the character.

The costume isn't honestly an issue for me. But, it is a form of protection, a distancing mechanism. His symbol on his chest is a shield. That he has two identities, one Superman, one Clark Kent, makes Superman himself distant. We could relate to Clark kent, because he's a human from Kansas that spends much of his time pining over a woman who doesn't love him. Superman is the fantasy alter-ego that has no problems and no real challenges. His fights against crime are just things that occupy his time it seems. Except, here's the problem: Superman is the reality and Clark Kent is the fantasy. It's not like the Peter Parker/Spider-Man relationship where he's Peter first and Spider-Man is an affectation. Superman is Clark Kent is Superman. How does one relate to that?

Grant Morrison and others have placed upon Superman the idea of a modern myth, a modern god in a way. I can see where they would get that, but it's never felt right to me. Superman is 'more than human,' but in such narrow ways like physical strength and compassion. Yet, his faults are so much less than ours. He doesn't line up to traditional myths in that way. Gods were 'more than human' in every aspect, good and bad. They did everything bigger and better, including being jerks and fucking things up. They were brash, prideful, quick to anger... then again, were they skewed too far in the other direction? Superman and his benevolent nature is the opposite of that. He fights for us, not against us, as was often the case. But, that still makes him distant and hard to relate to.

When Brian Azzarello wrote the character, he took Clark Kent out of the equation. In For Tomorrow, there was an event called the Vanishing where a sizable chunk of Earth's population disappeared. It was random. One of those people was Lois Lane and, since then, it doesn't appear that Superman is Clark Kent anymore. In fact, when we finally see where the people disappeared to, the first person we see is Clark. He's a robot, but the meaning is clear: he disappeared that day too. And Azzarello's Superman is much closer to the gods and figures of myth. He retains his compassion and thoughtfulness, but also adds in a questioning and almost selfish rashness. He gets involved in the affairs of a state, alienates the Justice League, and even threatens to destroy the planet. None of these things seem within his 'character' if you pay attention to what a lot of people said about the story. And, yet, it was Superman.

Besides Batman, I'm not sure there's a superhero that's so open to interpretation like that. If that's the case, what is the core of Superman? Does it come down to him following a few simple rules? He's an Alien from Krypton, he landed in Kansas, he's Clark Kent (or was at some point), he's stronger and faster than any human, can jump high/fly, wears an outfit, fights injustice as he sees it (could be in line with laws or not), and loves Lois Lane. Is there anything else that's consistent to the character, anything essential? After all, you could argue that Azzarello got it wrong with his Superman who threatened to destroy Earth when it attacked him using elemental monsters, but... that's a Superman story. Just like the rest, it was ink and paper, and, as we've established, Superman is just a comic book character ultimately. If a comic book says he did it, he did it. Does he actually have a core character?

If he doesn't, shouldn't he be the easiest character to relate to? He's so empty, strung together from the barest of pieces of information. Look at the guidelines I set out for what Superman is at his most basic and... is there anywhere you can't go with him? Then why is he so locked into one singular image?

In 30 minutes, I'll try to answer that, but probably won't.

[Don't forget to donate what you can to the Hero Initiative (Details in this post)! After you do, let me know via comment or e-mail (found at the righthand side) so I can keep track of donations -- and who to thank.]

Blogathon 03: Who is Superman? Part One

[Beginning my series of posts discussing some different interpretations of Superman from the past ten years...]

Earlier this year, I reread It's a Bird... by Steven T. Seagle and Teddy Kristiansen for the first time since it first came out. A Vertigo graphic novel, it's a partially autobiographic exploration of Superman by Seagle after his fictional counterpart is offered one of the Superman comics by his editor at DC. There's also a lot of family/personal stuff thrown in, but what I want to focus on is the Superman stuff. Seagle offers so many differing views and approaches and takes on the character in this story that it seems like the natural starting place to begin with. That so many are divorced from traditional views of the character, breaking him down to his components and their symbolic value is of particular interest to me.

Seagle first approaches Superman as a comic book character. He's the star of a comic that he read once with his brother while waiting in the hospital for reasons that become clearer later. Then, he's a character (or a title, I suppose) that he's offered to write. That these two points are where he begins is important, because, before all else, Superman is a fictional comic book superhero. He may be everything else people try to put on him, but that's where it begins. Before his role as a Christ stand-in or a film character or an image on a pillowcase, he's the figure in a comic book. He's not real, he's dispossible, he's just ink and paper. That's where he begins and, ultimately, where he ends. I'm not trying to be dismissal or lessen the character's import, by the way.

And he's a character that fictional Seagle doesn't want to write. The rest of the story is him struggling with what Superman is and what he means as his editor, his girlfriend, anyone who knows about the offer, insists he should take. He says that he doesn't relate to Superman, a problem that I sometimes share.

In breaking Superman down, Seagle offers different views. Take the costume: he gives us a short story about a teenager who wears a Superman costume to school on Halloween and, for the first time, he genuinely feels, well, super because of how people look at him. The next day, he's just his boring self again. A week later, he returns to school in the costume and is laughed at, ridiculed, labelled 'weird' and sent home. People talk about the iconic power of Superman's costume and his chest symbol, but does it hold any value when someone else is wearing those things? If you put on the costume, you're not super, you're not Superman -- and, yet, that's the thing so closely identified with him than anything else. Is it ultimately an empty symbol?

Later, in examining the colours of the costume, Seagle breaks down the various meanings, how the primary colours come from the desire to pop and the simplicities of printing at the time of his creation. The sequence is rather stunning visually as Kristiansen uses the same pose but changes the colours. We see Superman brought down to just blue or the red, yellow, and blue switched around. That those versions of the costume don't look right is interesting. Is it because those colours work best this way or is it simply that we're used to Superman as is? Looking at the colours, we see rage, cowardice, and depression. There are other meanings, but I like those ones best in my scorning, mocking way.

What does the costume of Superman mean exactly? What does any costume mean? Other interpretations of the character won't bother with that entirely aside from Joe Casey's final year on Adventures of Superman where a visit to Heroville results in the soldiers that accompanied him wearing superhero costumes to walk among the populace and Superman telling them to wear their colours proud. The costume is so tied to the idea of a superhero and Superman's to him. It's not the key to his character, but it's a start...

In 30 minutes, I get past the surface a little. I hope.

[Don't forget to donate what you can to the Hero Initiative (Details in this post)! After you do, let me know via comment or e-mail (found at the righthand side) so I can keep track of donations -- and who to thank.]